


Meow

by FloodFeSTeR



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Dean Winchester, Confused Castiel, Dean Hates Witches, Dean is Not Amused, Dean is So Done, Dean is a Softie, Embarrassment, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluffy Ending, Humor, I'm Sorry, Loneliness, Masturbation, Nice Crowley, Play Fighting, Protective Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Sam is a Little Shit, Sassy Sam, Secret Crush, Witch Curses, Witches, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-05-11 20:15:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5640487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloodFeSTeR/pseuds/FloodFeSTeR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Normal routine, you and the boys are out clearing a coven too close to the bunker. Returning home, everything seems normal.</p><p>Until you find the cat.</p><p>*it sounds too silly to be ominous but. . .*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You can thank Girl_WiththeDirtyMind for this to be honest lol.

Hate was a strong word. 

Which is  _exactly_ why you use it when dealing with witches.

You never had a real reason to hate witches, they had never tortured your family or done you wrong, you didn't have a righteous cause for it all.

You just. . .fucking hated witches.

"Little whore!"

"Ugly twat," you snapped, firing three times; two in her chest, one in the face. "Sam, cleared another one!"

"I'll get to it in a minute!" Came back to you from somewhere in the house.

You wiped blood from your face and grimaced, holster in the pistol Dean had given you and looking around. Not a bad house, too bad it reeked of possum tail and some kind of herb burning in a human skull. This was your first hunt, Dean and Sam had admitted you could benefit from a hunt like this being a first and you had to agree. 

Hell, this was easier than Dean's training.

You reached out and cocked your head at the amulet around the witches neck, running your thumb over it but leaving it be. Rule numero uno: don't take the fucking charms and bullshit.

You'd been around long enough to learn that by heart.

You jumped when you heard Dean's. . .guess that would have been a roar echo through the house. He'd been the most eager to charge into the manor, a weird sort of excitement coupled with a seriousness that made you wonder sometimes. . .

"You're day dreaming again."

You blushed and looked up at Sam, fists clenching at his smile. "Blow me, Sam Winchester."

He barked out a laugh and went about searching the witch while you went about searching for Dean. Maybe it seemed a little obvious or maybe it seemed a little like the lost puppy routine but you always had to search for Dean. Whether you were hunting or home, even in the grocery store, had to find Dean. Maybe you should have already figured it out by now but whatever, you couldn't help yourself.

You entered the room clean and ended up sprayed with blood.

You squeaked and stuttered back, whining as you flicked blood from your fingers; like it did any good. Dean cringed as he stared at you, slowly lowering his machete and looking as guilty as he should.

"Uh. . .sorry, ______. . ."

" _Sorry? Sorry?_ " you groaned and looked down at yourself. "Fine, fine its okay," you groaned again. "Can we just. . .get home already?"

He hummed and rolled the machete around in his hand, watching Sam duck through the collapsing doorway. "Was that it? I feel like we're missing one."

Sam shrugged. "We weren't given specifics, they said a coven but not how many. We've went through ten, this was more like an Order."

Dean shrugged. "I haven't seen any more or any signs of another being around. We'll come back through tonight," he grumbled. "Not like we're far."

You grimaced, letting go of the frane you were fiddling with. "Don't remind me," you paused. "So, how about we head on back?"

Sam waved a hand. "You two can head on back, I'm gonna burn stuff here."

"Don't touch any of their shit, Sammy," Dean warned and you flushed when he threw an arm over your shoulders, dragging you beside him. "Come on, girly, I call first dibs on the hot water."

"That's not fair," you griped. "What about ladies first?"

He looked around then looked down at you. "Is there one around here?"

You slapped him in the chest but he seemed unfazed, laughing loudly at you. And you blushed deeper, because who wouldn't? He was Dean Winchester, you'd never met a man like him before and doubted there were any others like him. Smarter than he thought, funny as Hell (according to him, Hell is not funny at all) and you couldn't even think about the way he looked without turning seventy shades of embarrassed.

Yeah, you had a huge crush on Dean but you would never tell him, it would just be too much if he turned you down or said he didn't feel the same.

So bottle that shit up.

"You feelin alright kid," Dean asked once the two of you were safely in the Impala.

You shrugged numbly, still semi-lost in thought. "I uh. . .yeah, I guess so," you looked over to his frown. "What?"

He shook his head as he pulled off of the side of the road and started for the 'driveway'. "Baby needs to be washed," he murmured. "Guess I can do that tomorrow."

You didn't say anything, though you wanted to say you could help. But he would never let you help with Baby, that was their 'special time', as Sam said which made it all the funnier. 

Dean had a weird thing with his car.

Though, you couldn't blame him, this car was fine as wine.

If it hadn't been for this car, you and the boys would have never met.

He'd hit you, after all.

Dark night, foggy sky and you running for your life made a bad combination to couple with the highway.

He hadn't hit you hard, a little love tap if anything,  but it had started the avalanche and now you were buried.

Worse than it sounds.

"Alright kid," you jumped at Dean's voice, looking around the garage in a daze. "Get out, I gotta lock her up."

You pursed your lips but peeled yourself away from the passenger seat, blinking slowly at the bright lights above. Dean whistled as he proceeded to pull things from the trunk, your wheels turning in your head. You grinned and slowly backed up towards the door; you planned on getting that first shower.

And Dean seemed to notice that because he started chasing you.

"Nuh uh, kid, I called dibs!"

"Dibs revoked," you sang, grinning uncontrollably as you rounded one of the corners towards the bathrooms. "I want hot water and I'm getting it dammit!"

"Like Hell you are!"

You almost cringed at the giggle that came from your lips but slamming the door behind you was so satisfying. Dean ran into the door with a loud grunt and rattled the metal with his fist. You snickered and tugged your shirt over your head while he griped away from the door. 

"My hot water," you murmured,  easing the faucet on. 

It wasn't the only bathroom, but hot water was a greedy thing in the winter and fuck was it cold outside. The central heating didn't work anymore either, which was a big pain in the ass. From hot water to a little space heater, that was the big plan for the night.

You hummed and pinched the skin on your hip, frowning as you tugged at it. "Stupid hips," you muttered, stepping under the hot spray. "Ah yeah, that's the good stuff."

You wondered if Sam would really be okay over there by himself. Sure he could handle himself, but what if they hadn't gotten all of those bitches? Eh, he was still Sam-freaking-Winchester, he could handle himself you supposed. Even if he couldn't, the coven wasn't that far away and could be even reached by foot if necessary.

"Stop worrying," you murmured, pushing back the shower curtain as the last bit of blood went down the drain. "I might need to take another shower," you sniffed your arm. "Ugh."

You grabbed a towel and wrapped it tightly around you, chewing your lip as you stared at the mirror. You still had that smell on you and. . .

"Dammit, he's gonna let me do this," you muttered and stalked back towards your bedroom, surprised to find. . .Dean's pants? You plucked them up from outside your door,  frowning at the blood but more concerned about why they were in the hallway. "What the Hell," you murmured, dropping them. "Nuh uh, not picking up his dirty clothes again."

But you were about to wash Baby, she needed it -- Hell, the car  _deserved_ it -- so you did grab them again. You wrapped them in your towel and left it by the door, finding a pair of shorts and a tank top from your dresser. You grabbed the dirty towel and jeans as you left your room and, after tossing them into the washing machine, you grabbed a bucket, some soap, and started for the garage.

"Oh Baby," you murmured, setting the bucket down. 

You were surprised Dean wasn't out here basically pre-soaking the blood. You'd all gotten jumped right out the gate and Dean thought it smart to run one over so there was a hit of gore stuck in the grill. You shook your head and crouched down to see if there was anything stuck in the bottom, sighing in relief when you saw only blood. You stood up again and started spraying the car, humming lightly as you did so. 

And then you had to stop, because what exactly was that fucking noise?

You furrowed your brow and let go of the nozzle, looking over your shoulder to. . .

"Is that a fucking cat?"

It was staring at you with big, bright green eyes and an almost annoyed expression. It let out a loud wail and started jogging towards you, falling face-first at your feet. You dropped the hose and reached out, ignoring the small growl it gave and held it out at arms length. That expression was definitely one of annoyance, from what, you could only guess.

"Now where did you come from," you murmured, pulling it closer to your chest. "I know your not ours, Dean's allergic."

It gave a small mewl and wiggled in your arms, huffing when you didn't let go. You looked around, wondering if this was some shtick pulled by Sam but the man wasn't subtle at all so a no go. And Dean had this inherit aversion of the things because of his allergies (he also said they were assholes, but whatever). You looked back down at the cat and it was staring up at you, blinking lazily.

"I gotta do something with you," you murmured. "You're so pretty, I don't know what Dean will do with you," the cat growled as you set it down on the ground. "But I need to finish the car first, just sit. . .right there," it's tail twitched and you sighed, grabbing the bucket. "I already know you're most likely not gonna stay there and I'm gonna get in trouble."

The cat sneezed and it's tail flopped, you chuckling when it looked back at the appendage in honest wide-eyed bewilderment. Cats were weird, that was a given, and it wasn't the first time you had seen a cat take in its tail like it was an alien, but there was something so familiar about the cat. Instant ease and those eyes were so damn intelligent, but you would deal with the cat in a minute. You looked over at it as you sprayed the soap from the grill,  saw the cat hesitantly licking at its paw. 

Beautiful cat, you supposed, looking over at the cat. You knew what kind, just couldn't remember the name, only that you had only seen pictures of it on the Internet or on television.

"I spend too much time looking at cats," you rolled your eyes and watched the soap run off the tires. "Maybe the car will distract him while I deal with you, huh little buddy?"

The cat grumbled and stood, staring up at you expectantly, big green eyes unblinking. To be honest, the cat was starting to creep you out. It seemed to refused to take its eyes off of you, where you expected it to dissappear already and get you into trouble. But it was just sitting there, staring and looking completely confused.

You sighed and looked down at the cat, placing your hands on your hips. "Dude, what is your deal?"

The cat growled and stretched, it's ears twitching. You opened your mouth to speak but was cut off by lumbering steps and a deep voice calling your name.

"_______? Where are you?"

"Garage!"

You looked up as Sam stuck his head out, his smile fading to confusion when he saw you and the cat having a very serious staring contest. He ignored the three steps into the garage and you wanted to scowl at that but you didn't want to take your eyes off of the cat. Sam stopped beside you, tucking his hands deep into his pockets as he joined you in staring at the cat.

"Okay, I'm just gonna ask: where the Hell did the cat come from?"

You shrugged. "I don't know, I was out here washing Baby and then the cat showed up."

"Wait, washing the car," Sam looked over at you. "Dean let you do that?"

You hesitated. "No. . .no, I just uh. . .I wanted to be nice. You think he'll be mad?"

"No, _______, but he will be mad about this thing," Sam pointed down at the cat that hissed at him. "Jeez is he mean?"

"First time he's done that," you paused. "Did you see Dean on your way in?"

Sam shook his head. "No, No I didn't, I wonder where he is."

"Probably asleep or something," you sighed, spraying the soap from your legs. "I think I'm gonna do the same, we were up late last night."

"Your fault," Sam hummed. "Wait what are you doing?"

You looked over at him, cat wrapped up in your arms. "I'm uh. . .I'm gonna take the cat with me."

"And why?"

You looked down at the cat, it purred and it's claws kneaded softly against your chest. "B-Because he's cute. And I hate sleeping alone, one night and I'll be satisfied."

Sam sighed. "Just make sure Dean doesn't see him, alright," he paused and sighed. "And make sure he doesn't use the bathroom inside. You just can't get that smell out."

You chuckled, following him out of the garage. "Alright, alright, let's eat though. I'm starving."

* * *

" _I don't want to. . .set. . .the world. . .on. . ._ " you paused with your shirt halfway over your head. "What are you looking at, little dude?"

You could hear his purring from where he was lying on the bed, unblinking and watching you change. It was kind of creepy, but it was just a cat so it's not like. . .anyway, he was just chilling and you were trying to change. You would have just stayed in what you had been wearing but Sam making you laugh had ended with chilling your collar.

You pulled your hair back into a bun on the nape of your neck,  tugging down your shorts a little. "What do you think, dude," you gestured to yourself. "Look good," the cat meweled. "Asking a cat about clothes," you mumbled. "I need friends."

You slid onto the bed, groaning as you stretched. The cat jumped to his feet and padded over to you, sniffing your face and making all kinds of strange little noises as you giggled and nudged him away. He was a cool cat, a lot smarter than you thought a cat could be. He'd listened to everything you said and hadn't given you any problems,  though he had been sneezing a lot so that was a little concerning. Was he sick or just allergies? You felt bad for the little guy but there was nothing you could do to be honest.

"Come here dude," you wrapped an arm around his middle and pulled him against your chest. "You have some serious love for boobs don't you," you questioned as he nuzzled your breasts. "Definitely love boobs," you giggled. "I wish Dean wasn't allergic to cats," you sighed.

The cat meweled and flopped down on the bed beside you, panting slightly as he lazily flicked his tail around. You smiled as you stared at the cat, trying so hard to not want to name him. You didn't want to get attached but it was a freaking cat.

"Gotta get you out by morning buddy," you mumbled and tucked your face into the pillows. "But it feels nice to have something other than a cold pillow beside me."

You looked up when the cats rough tongue brushes over your knuckle. He closed his eyes when you looked up, your fingers bunching in the hair on his side. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know how long I'm going to make this, but it won't be a super long thing. Maybe ten chapters, that's what keeps popping up in my head.

You glared at the ceiling as you lay on your back, fingers rhythmically flexing in the sheets at your sides.

"Stupid fucking brain," you grumbled, glancing over at the cat. "Am I keeping you up?"

The cat meweled and stretched, claws digging into the blanket as he flopped his head down sideways. He blinked slowly at you, looking either bored or annoyed, most likely at you. Because you couldn't sleep, further proving insomnia was a bigger bitch than Lucifer himself.

You pursed your lips slowly, wiggling your hips against the mattress. You'd been lying here for at least an hour, knowing very well that you need to get some sleep because if Dean was good at anything it was bitching about how you would most likely get them killed because you hadn't had enough sleep or something like that.

"He's such an asshole sometimes," you nibbled on your bottom lip, wondering if he was up; probably not, you had kept him up late the previous night watching this movie because, despite being a Hunter, gory movies scared the piss out of you. "He probably thinks I'm such a dork," you scrubbed your hands over your face.

Well, you knew he thought you were a dork, but that was besides the point. You'd tried very hard to be at least sort of like the girls he usually goes for - but he always left them or didn't remember their names the next morning, so you would never stoop to desperation. Not meaning you weren't just a hair shy of it, but still.

You would, however, stoop to using him as a bit of a. . .stress reliever.

"Maybe that will get me to sleep? Hasn't worked before. . ." You mumbled, looking over at the cat again; he suddenly looked very alert. "Look, I can't do this while you're watching me so uh. . .scoot," you waved a hand at the cat but he just laid there, staring unblinkingly at you. "Oh my God, you are the strangest fucking cat."

You slid a hand beneath him and scooped him up as gently as you could without getting halfway off of the bed, dropping him off to the other side of the bed. A moment later, tiny orange-brown paws peeked over the edge of the mattress and then big green eyes. He meowed as loudly as possible and you scrambled for him, swatting your hand in the hair but barely tapping his face because you didn't want this cat to hate you but Jesus you didn't need Dean to hear him and come busting in on you. . . _trying to get to sleep_.

"With a cat in the room," you mumbled, trying to wiggle into a more comfortable position. "Creepy? No. . .I hope not," you sighed and closed your eyes, tongue running over your bottom lip. "Okay, no you can do this with a cat in the room. . .I hope I don't look over into green eyes in the middle of this."

It wasn't the cats green eyes you wanted to look into in the middle of this, anyway.

 _Dean's_.

You wanted to look into Dean's, though you would most likely never do so no matter how bold you were in your fantasies or dreams. In your dreams, you were the bravest woman you knew, able to shock Dean Winchester and not be self conscious at all. You were bold, you were a total bad ass and he loved that about you.

Complete opposite of your real self though, lets be honest.

You inhaled sharply through your nose and wiggled a little further down the bed, cocking your right knee to the side to slip your hand into the shorts you had put on.

And to think, the only part you found weird was the sound of the cat rolling around on the floor.

You didn't do this a lot, yes it felt fucking fantastic, especially whenever you had to muffle yourself from crying out Dean's name but honestly, lately, with your growing frustrations with the very man in the fantasy, this had become more about getting some damn sleep than anything.

So you run your fingers in a ghost pattern, back and forth, barely touching yourself but trying to build it up into something more. You hated when it was just clit-n-go, some times the fingers just didn't work, ya know? And your left hand. . .that bitch was useless, she got fired, right hand knew what she was doing. Ol' Reliable, is a consistent joke inside of your head because you don't have any friend girls to talk to this stuff about.

"Sweet Jesus," you mumbled, the tip of your middle finger ghosting over your clit.

You twist your head to the side a little, a last sweep for kitty eyes and then you close yours, hips hiking up off of the bed a little as you start those small, stinging circles on the exposed tip of your sensitivity.

Your favorite fantasy, flickering to life behind your eyes like its played on an old projector and your muscles begin to clench already.

 _Slow down_ , you try to remind yourself, but its hard when it involves Dean Winchester and especially when your mind tries to wonder from the delicious scene you're trying to complete.

Try the one where Dean is giving you the roughest, hottest sex you could ever dream of and your mind wondering off to why your roots are so sensitive at the pull of a rubber band but not your own fingers.

 _Getting off track already, circle back around later dumbass_.

You bite your lip softly, heat traveling from the back of your neck - and it burns - to your ears and your cheeks, your chest. Why it does that, you'll have to look up later in boredom, but right now the heat has moved to your pussy and fuck does it feel good.

Your hips roll up, left hand twisting back and to the side to clench the edge of your pillow as you keep up a torturous pace of slow circles, harsh strikes back and forth and then stopping all together. Gotta keep the right pace or you'll loose any of the sensitivity and the heat; it'd happened before and you'd been more than pissed. But its perfect right now and you give out a small mewl, chest arching off of the bed. You tuck the heel of your hand nicely against your pubic mound and rub your clit up and down, then go back to the normal routine.

Your breath is becoming steadily more shallow, your muscles clenching at something that's not there but it is in your head. He's above you and he's kissing your neck, nibbling on the shell of your ear, breath hot against your throat. . .

" _Ah_ ," you whimper and your legs bow outwards, fingers rubbing furiously against your gathering slick. "O- _Oh_. . .fuck. . ."

Your hips rock against your hand, denied the rhythm they needed but your clit takes the brunt of your abuse and they seem fine with being in the background. The heat is gathering, this might be a good one; you prayed it would be, then had to refrain from thinking of Cas.

He could fuck up a wet dream sometimes.

He could also _create_ them, but that's a completely different story.

" _De_ -" you bite your lip before you can cry out, before you can alert anyone to what your doing.

But you feel the slight dip in the bed, know the cat is up here but all you can do is grab the blanket and cover yourself up without missing a beat.

No way were you stopping to push him off the bed, no matter how much you wanted to.

" _Oh_ ," you crooned again, fingers becoming sloppy against your clit, stopping and starting rhythmically to keep it just out of reach but not too far. " _Ah ah_ ," your cheeks flush hotter.

The heat was building, making your skin burn as you shifted, hips twitching and leg curling and uncurling as you climbed higher and higher. . .

"Oh fuck," you whimpered in an airy way, chest arching off of the bed as you ground your finger into your clit, legs squeezing tight around your hand. "A- _Ah!_ De. . . _oh fuck!_ "

Your hips jerked back in sudden sensitivity and you went slack against the bed, breathing slightly labored but nothing you couldn't handle just through your nose. You licked your lips and swallowed, looking over when soft puffs of air went over your cheek. You cracked your eyes open to slits, pushing the cat away as you rolled over onto your side.

"Go to sleep," you yawned. "Creepy ass cat. . ."

The cat sneezed and then growled, but you ignored him in favor of keeping your limp body in the comfortable position you found.

A good orgasm and some sleep, that's all you were asking for. Seems you'd be the only one to give yourself the satisfaction.

* * *

You didn't have a restless sleep, you actually slept fairly well but there was a night terror and those awful sweats so when you woke up sticky to the sound of a broad fist banging on your bedroom door, you were more than agitated.

"What the fuck do you want Dean," you grumbled, arms wrapping tightly around the pillow you were basically spooning.

A heavy sigh and another rasp. "Its not Dean, I was actually a wondering if he was in there?"

You furrowed your brow and lifted your head, eyes nothing but slits as you gave the door a look that would probably make even Cas feel stupid. The cat was stretched out over your bed, sleeping peacefully, like Sam hadn't even knocked and you thanked the heavens Dean hadn't seen the thing yet.

Wait, what did Sam just ask?

"Why the Hell. . .why would Dean be in _here_ ," you grumbled and pushed yourself up into a seated position on the bed, running a hand roughly over your face.

"Uh. . .can Cas and I come in?"

You furrowed your brow and gave that door another look. "Wait, why is Cas here," he hadn't stopped by in awhile. . .you'd missed him. "Is Dean missing? What's going on?"

"_____," _oh Cas_. "Is the cat in there with you?"

You looked over at the cat, who was still asleep, tail flicking aimlessly and right paw twitching; if only you could sleep that deep. "Yeah," you looked back to the door. "What does he have to. . .do. . .Cas?"

After a moment, he opened the door, looking determined - well, Cas always had that annoying look on his face, or would it be _annoyed_ look? - as he looked around the room. Electric blue, Cas was an angel on a mission and you were almost afraid to speak again in case he snapped. He'd done it before, when Dean was running around all crazy and demon-y, and he had been so damn mean. . .you didn't want to do _that_ again.

But dammit, you had to.

"Cas," you inched forward on the bed, the mattress sinking down under your hands. "Cas, is everything okay?"

His eyes flickered to you and then to the cat, and then he pointed at the feline. "That is not a cat."

The cats green eyes peeked open, going wide when he saw Cas. He clambered to his feet and began to growl and mewl, stretching and tail flicking in every damn direction. He sneezed violently and stumbled, hissing as he cleaned his face.

You shook your head. "What do you mean? He looms like a normal damn cat to me - Sam, where the Hell is Dean? What's going on?"

Sam shook his head, giving you a small cringe before he rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh. . .Cas? Some help here?"

Cas glared down at the cat, but there was a bit of sympathy in his eyes. "That is not a cat, as I said. . .that is Dean."

Silence filled the room.

You stared blankly at the cat as your cheeks began to slowly heat up, the cat hissing and meowing, completely oblivious to you reaching for him.

He let out a normally amusing meow as you jerked him up, limbs flailing as you chunked him towards the door. You screamed a little and gathered up your pillow, hiding your crimson cheeks behind it. The cat stumbled to his feet, giving you a bewildered look and you knew then that Cas was serious.

" _Oh my God_ you -! D- _Dean_ oh my _God!_ Y-You _saw_ me a-and -! Get him _out_ of here! Get him out _now!_ "

Cas was already walking towards Dean so he grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, carrying him down the right side of the hallway. You buried your face into the pillow, on the verge of tears and hiding your face as Sam hesitated in the doorway. He scratched at his palm and cleared his throat, but you shook your head and tried to smother yourself with the pillow. Maybe then your embarrassment would die out and you could -

"Uh, ____? Is uh. . .sorry about this."

You peered up at Sam, who looked very much concerned for you but all you could think of was _Dean watching you masturbate!_ Thank God you hadn't said his name so there was a glimmer of hope but he had climbed onto the bed in the middle -

"I could die right now," you whined, throwing the pillow to the side. "He saw me change and I was - I'm gonna kill him while he can't defend himself!"

You clambered to the end of the bed, ready to leap to your feet but Sam put you back down with an easy hand against your shoulder. You huffed and glared up at him, your entire body shaking as he sat down beside you.

"You can't kill him," Sam said sternly. "But I'm not against you punching him when he's human, which could take awhile."

"How long," you seethed, but didn't really mean it; you'd be too caught up in your embarrassment by then.

"A week," Sam mused. "Maybe longer? Cas says it all depends on what you both touched."

"Wait what - _we_ touched? Wouldn't it be something _he_ touched?"

Sam shrugged, balancing his elbows on his knees, wringing his hands together. "He says he found Dean by finding you, so there's something connecting the both of you, but we don't know what the object has done to you, it could have just went for the stronger opposition and didn't consider you a threat."

You huffed and jumped to your feet. "Thanks Sam, that's what every gal wants to hear - you're weak."

"That's not what I said," Sam sighed and stood.

You trembled and pointed towards the door. "Look, can you just let me get changed? I uh. . .I'll be out in a minute, okay? And a lot less pissed off."

Sam quirked his lips on the corner and nodded, patting your shoulder as he grabbed the door handle. "We'll be in the archives trying to figure this out, take your time."

You nodded numbly until the door shut, then you grabbed a pillow and screamed into it, panting when you were done. You held the pulled limply in your hands and shook you need violently as you tossed it to the side.

" _Dean Winchester watched me masturbate_ ," you hissed quietly to yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember everyone I do take requeeeeeests *~*~*~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this one turned out shorter than I wanted it to be but can't fix that now really

You're not. . .taking it well, at all, and he couldn't blame you because what he'd seen. . .

"So how do we do this so I can strangle him," you growled at him, which made his ears flatten back on his head for some reason.

Being a cat wasn't as weird as he thought it would be. . .okay, that was the biggest lie ever told. Some things were cool, he had to admit, like how limber he was, how advanced his hearing was, his nose. But he was still allergic, which meant he was allergic to himself and that was the most annoying fucking thing. And then there was the whole not-talking thing and don't even get him started on the bathroom thing.

But, most of all, it was how mad you were at him.

You both had never have the best relationship, rocky with the whole you-being-a-chic in the bunker thing; he didn't know how to act around you, to be honest, because there were rules and boundaries according to Sam.

And he had surely crossed a huge one last night.

" _You_ do nothing," Cas sighed, staring down at Dean with an almost annoyed look. "I have things to gather, you just need to keep Dean in your sight and safe until I return."

You grumbled, arms crossed tightly over your chest but Dean was busy mewling at Cas, pawing at his coat because he couldn't scream or strangle anyone. It was the most frustrating thing he had ever experienced, giving him a whole new reason to hate witches.

"What did he touch," Sam furrowed his brow, how hands on his hips.

Castiel shook his head. "An amulet, perhaps? A coin? An unassuming object? It could have been a myriad of things, I will have to do a sweep for threats and survivors and when I am finished I will need you to bring Dean back," he sighed. "The instincts he has inherited from his state give him an extra sense that not even I can detect, he will know what it was."

"But wait," you took a step forward. "Wouldn't that. . .wouldn't that still put Dean in danger? I mean, he's in a weak state right now and I'm royally pissed at him but. . .what if something happens?"

"We'll all be there," Sam assured you.

"She will have to be there for sure," Cas nodded his head. "The readings are not just for Dean, they are for her as well. . .as if there is a thread attaching them, which is curious considering she does not appear to be affected by anything like Dean."

"That we know of yet," you rubbed your face thoroughly with your hands. "So we just have to keep this ass from dyin for a few days," Castiel nodded. "Fine, fine whatever," you glared down at Dean, who still had his ears pinned back. "And whenever you're human, expect a punch in the face."

"What the Hell did he do," Sam gave you a bewildered look and watched your cheeks dust pink. "What? So what, he watched you change?"

You wrapped your arms around your chest, shuffling uncomfortably and Dean ducked his head, his tail flicking back and forth violently. He didn't even want to think about it, but he couldn't exactly get the sounds and images out of his head.

But he wanted to, if only to not be killed.

"No," you whined, not able to look up at Sam. "J-Just don't worry about it, okay? He just could have let me know it was him," you threw him a glare before dropping your arms. "I'm. . .I'm gonna go look for some food," you mumbled and turned, stalking off into the kitchen.

Cas and Sam looked down at Dean, Cas confused, Sam accusing as always. Dean bared his teeth and hissed, something he found oddly natural; oh great, he wouldn't get stuck like this, right?

Sam sighed, gesturing to Dean. "You might wanna do whatever you can to fix this fast. I don't want to come in and she's drowning him in the tub."

Cas nodded. "I believe that would be wise."

And he was gone, just like that, leaving Sam and Dean to stare at each other. Dean blinked slowly, wanting to scream, to yell, to go find you and apologize but surprise, surprise, he still couldn't fucking talk. He hoped Cas would be done with this fast, before you did exactly what Sam feared.

They both jumped when they heard a loud clatter and then a muffled _I'm fine!_ from the kitchen, followed by a string of curses. Sam looked back down at Dean, who was staring down the hallway with an impatient expression.

"What did you do to piss her off so much," Dean looked back at Sam. "I mean. . .I've never seen her so mad at you before," Dean sneezed. "Yeah that's. . .helpful. You need to be human like, yesterday."

Did he expect Dean to actually find a way to speak in two seconds? He wished, at least to be able to communicate easier than staring blankly at things and fucking meowing.

Dean growled and stretched on the table, leaping down and looking up at Sam with a bored expression before he flicked his tail and sulked out of the room.

Sam sighed and shoved his hands deep into his pockets, looking right and then left for no reason before he followed the cursing path you had left. He found you sitting at the counter, holding a sandwich with both hands and chewing slowly with your brow furrowed in what looked like annoyance. When you noticed him, you perked up a little, but only responded to his soft _hey_ with taking a huge bite of your sandwich.

"What, you're not mad at me too are you," he gave you a softer version of those puppy eyes.

You stared at him angrily for a moment and then sighed, setting your sandwich down on the counter before you held up a finger for him to wait. You weren't mad at him, you were mad in general; at Dean, at witches, at the universe for being such a giant douche.

"I uh. . ." You swallowed twice, just to be sure you could speak without being choked by a stray piece of bread. "I. . .I'm not mad about him seeing me mostly naked, alright? I mean, we've all seen enough of each other for that to not be that weird anymore but. . ." Your cheeks felt as hot as a stove top. "But I couldn't sleep last night and I. . ." Your eyes flickered up to Sam's then back down. "I had to improvise a sleeping pill, ya know."

It took him a moment, the kitchen so quiet you could have sworn you heard those wheels cranking in his head until his jaw opened with an audible pop. "No he did not," oh didn't he sound like such a chatty Kathy; you nodded fiercely, looking down and hunching over as far you could go. "Maybe he didn't -"

"He jumped on the bed halfway through," you nearly shouted, head snapping up to look at Sam. "I-I mean he stared at me and everything!"

"That is beyond creepy."

"Duh," you snapped and buried your face into your hands. "H-How am I supposed to look at him after this?! I'm just - I don't know whether to be angry or embarrassed. I mean, like I said, naked is one thing but I almost slipped and -"

You cut yourself off but Sam knew, your crush hasn't been a secret to him for a long time, but Dean seemed either oblivious or he was ignoring it to spare your feelings. You were just lucky you had suppressed his name, that would have just been the end of you right there.

"Maybe. . .maybe if you tell Cas, he can get rid of the memory from both of your heads," Sam offered, brow creased in compassion. "I mean, it wouldn't be fair to have you remembering it like this. . .it seems to be tearing you up pretty badly."

You nodded, rubbing your knees. "I-I just didn't - he should have found some way to communicate it instead of just going with it, ya know?"

"Well, Dean's always been creepy. Maybe he's turned into a real creep this time," you both trembled and he rubbed your shoulder. "Look, this will all be over soon thanks to Cas and his thoroughness. . .he doesn't like this situation just as much as you, Dean is a whole other story. He's allergic to himself."

You had to feel an instant pang of sympathy for the asshole trolling around the bunker. That would explain all of the sneezing, and Dean hated cats as much as he hated witches so he couldn't be too happy himself.

"Now you have me feeling sorry for him," you snapped and grabbed your sandwich before you wiggled off of the stool. "Look, I'm gonna go watch a cartoon, alright? I'm gonna watch a cartoon and eat my feelings."

Sam chuckled as you passed him, your feet sliding with the socks you wore; he only chuckled more at the way you slid. You glared over your shoulder and clutched your sandwich tighter to your chest; like it was going somewhere.

"I hate boys," you murmured, taking another bite from your sandwich.

* * *

" _How could they be worse?_ "

" _They couldn't; I lied_."

"Well that's just rude, Radio," you mumbled, plucking up another chip and tossing it into your mouth.

Fourth movie you've watched, Brave Little Toaster was always a last resort and it always served to put you to sleep. But right now you were completely awake, head aching and nerves on fire. You didn't want to sleep, going into that bed meant night sweats and too much thinking as always. You didn't want to do that, and you also were in no mood to do what was making you so damn aggravated.

" _Mow!_ "

You jumped and glared down at Dean, who was staring up at you with big green eyes, tail flopping back and forth on the floor and making a light thumping noise. He mewled again but you just narrowed your eyes a little bit more; what did he want now?

"I'm mad at you," you snapped after the fifth mewl. "Don't look at me like that, you pissed me off. I don't even want to be talking to you."

He reached out and pawed at your leg, which you withdrew quickly and tucked it under you. You stuck your tongue out at him, which was terribly childish but whatever. He growled and jumped up onto the couch beside you, rubbing his teeth on your arm and. . .was he doing what you thought he was doing?

"Dude! You're marking me, go away," you griped, nudging him.

He cocked his head, ears twitching this way and that. Maybe be didn't know what he was doing, but that just felt too possessive, maybe too animal-like or whatever. . .

He huffed and turned into dead weight, resting his head on the edge of the couch and watching the appliances running around on the television screen. You slowly looked away from him to the screen, slowly chewing on your next chip as your nerves writhed beneath your skin. You were mad at him and had made that quite obvious but now he was trying to get back on your good side? Was he stupid? Were you stupid, because you were now reaching out for his fur.

"I hate you," you mumbled as you scratched him behind the ear; he purred loudly in his chest, which confused him and he pushed up onto his front paws. "You idiot, its a purr, just go with it," he huffed and eased back down, apparently unable to stop it. "I don't know, I kind of like you better as a cat. You don't bitch as much."

He growled but closed his eyes as you ran your fingers down his spine, staring softly at the back of his head. He was beautiful as a cat, but that was of course to be expected - look at the assholes face, he was gorgeous. Which only pissed you off more because why, why did he have to see you like that and ruin it? You were fine how things were, now you didn't want to look him in the eye, would hate when he was human again because you had to face him as he always was and that just. . .no.

Maybe you would take up that offer of having Cas wipe the both of you. But would that be right, wiping away a piece of Dean without his consent?

"Dammit," you mumbled, running your fingers through his fur. "I hate having morals, its really getting in the way of convenience."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, ridiculousness compressed into a filler chapter. Enjoy. The next is a bit more exciting, dirty and Dean is gonna hate you.

He wakes up alone on the couch, you're no longer there leaning against the arm rest but Captain America isn't too far in so you can't be too far.

Dean yawns and stretches out on the couch, yawning again at the release of fresh oxygen to the brain. His teeth clicked together and his eyes flickered around the room, his claws digging into the edge of the cushion he was sprawled on. He really. . . _really_ did not want to get up; did he really have to, or did he just want to find you? It felt weird, needing to find you, but he couldn't stop himself. He felt. . .love, but not like _that_ kind of love, perhaps that was. . .animal instincts? Something like that? None of the feelings were romantic, not in the slightest, but it was definitely a sort of love.

_Great, I'm becoming more and more like a cat by the day. . ._

He jumped down from the couch, meowing as loud as he could as he paced towards the bedrooms. Where had you gone and how had he not noticed you getting up off of the couch? As a cat, he had noticed whenever a fly was buzzing in the other room but not a fully grown human being getting off of the couch.

Dean growled when he made it back towards the kitchen, stopping in front of the open kitchen doors and mewling one more time before he went silent. Where the Hell were you? Where the Hell was Sam? Should he pray for Cas? Would he even be able to notice, or should Dean really interrupt Cas while he was trying to figure out how to fix this?

He jumped when he heard a loud slam, his right ear twitching when he heard the rustle of grocery bags. He jumped to his feet and started running down the hall, mewling when he saw you and Sam coming down the stairs. You looked down at Dean, pulling your sunglasses from your face and shoving it into your hair.

"Hey there, asshole," you chirped, dropping the bags in your arms onto the war table; Sam was grinning as he dropped the bags in his arms down. "Boy, do I have quite a few surprises for you."

Dean cocked his head, jumping up onto the table and ready to nose around in the bags but Sam scooped him up and deposited him back onto the floor. He flattened his ears against his skull and leapt back up onto the table but you pushed him off, which made him hiss; you and Sam only snickered.

"Nuh uh, they're surprises for a reason," you scolded, humming as you dug around in the bags. "What do you think Sam, door number one or two?"

"Mmm, I think door number two for now," he chuckled.

"God bless you, man," you snickered and then grinned at Dean; he felt nervous all of the sudden. "So, I figured by the time you're human, I won't be as mad as I am right now; Hell, I'm not even that mad anymore. Buuuuut, I can get a little bit of revenge starting now. Annoy you, make me laugh, give Sam a good chuckle -- and you honestly can't fight me on it."

You raised up the tiny sweater from the bag, tearing off the tag and grinning at Dean again. He stood and slowly started backing up, hissing at you but he only felt it half-hearted in his chest. _No, Hell to the no with a capital N, he was not wearing a God damn sweater._

"Don't run, man," Sam shook his head and Dean growled at him. "Tryin' ta help you out, she's just gonna chase you."

"He's right," you snickered, taking a step towards him. "And I'll catch you, you don't have a lot of options."

_Well, a guy could try, right?_

His paws provided no friction and it grated his nerves as his claws scraped over the cold floor but he was determined to get as far from your crazy ass and that shirt as possible.

He could hear you cackling somewhere behind him and that only seemed to terrify him more as he spun around a corner and towards the bedrooms. He wiggled through the crack in your door, ducking between your desk and the edge of the bed. His tail was smashed at an odd angle and he couldn't move at all but you would never think to look here, especially since the incident; he could still smell it and half-heartedly felt this was a bad idea.

"Dean! C'mon, its just a sweater!"

 _Just a sweater_ , you had to have snapped or something because very rarely did you fuck with him like this. Maybe it was punishment for all of the teasing and. . .oh yeah, the whole masturbation thing. . .

Yeah, you were sure to get more payback than this.

Dean wiggled where he was, watching shadows from your feet under the cracked door. When you slipped by, he wanted to sigh in relief but then the door creaked open and he tensed. The steps weren't yours, they were Sam's, but Dean didn't trust him for shit now.

"Dean," he whispered softly. "Dude, I know you're in here," when Dean didn't say anything, Sam sighed but he could almost hear the smile behind him. "She's gonna catch you eventually, you know. And I can't blame her after what you did. You could have caused a fuss and stopped her, made her let you out of the room but you jumped up on the bed and watched her man. What the Hell?"

Dean shifted uncomfortably, but didn't come out of his hiding spot. He didn't know, seriously, it wasn't like he got. . . _aroused_ by it or anything, he supposed that was a good thing about being an animal; did it really cut out those feelings towards people?

No, he couldn't stay like this.

Sam sighed again. "Seriously man, you don't understand what she's going through in her head," he paused. "Which is exactly why I think this is funny and I'm helping her, you deserve a little punishment. Picking on her and everything, I hope she gives you the. . .special little gift I helped pick out," Dean's stomach dropped. "So, good luck, if I see you out of your hiding spot I'm catching you."

Dean wanted so badly to hiss, one of the only things he liked about this situation, but he did not want to be caught. Knowing Sam, the thing he bought was way worse than that fucking sweater.

Dean wasn't going to make it.

* * *

He'd never been woken up by being hauled into the air by his neck.

Dean hissed but found himself basically immobile as he was held by the scruff of his neck to your grinning face. Your eyes watched his front paws slowly stiffen and straighten out in front of him, his tail curling around his back left paw.

_What the fuck. . ._

"This is gonna be so much fun," you snickered and set him down on the bed but you were smart and didn't let him go. "Hey Sam! I caught him!"

Dean growled when he saw Sam, who was just strictly grinning as he basically skipped into the room. "I knew he was in here," Sam chirped, pinning Dean down while you adjusted the sweater; Dean finally hissed. "Aw, whose a grumpy little guy?"

"He's gonna knock the fuck out of you when he has hands," you snickered and held open the sweater. "I'm _soooo_ excited for this."

It took a whole new struggle to get Dean into the sweater, which was bringing out an unknown fashionista in Dean. It was terrible. It was bright pink, the edges silver glitter and across the back. . .

" _Momma's Pain In The Ass_ ," you cooed and put both hands on your hips; Dean let out a growl/hiss from the depths of Hell, spinning as he tried to tug it off. "Oh no, big guy, that thing isn't coming off until I take it off to wash," you reached out and scooped Dean up under his arms and holding him at arms length. " _Momma's Pain In The Ass_ ," _ugh, no, baby talk._

"Want me to get the other surprise," Sam hummed, rocking back on his heels.

You shook your head and held him closer to your chest subconsciously. "If he fucks up again, then oh yeah, but I think this is enough for now. He seems pretty pissed off."

"In that thing," Sam crinkled his nose, turning towards the door. "I would be."

You chuckled and Dean wiggled out of your arms, hitting the floor with barely a sound before he began to sulk ahead of you and Sam down the hall. In all honesty, this was 98% Sam's idea, you had been content with teasing him a little, maybe even giving him a bath because he still smelt like witch incense but Sam reminded you of how annoying Dean was and well. . .

So many beautiful ideas had bloomed.

"Now," you started once you were all gathered in the kitchen, Dean staring at the floor. "Dean, c'mon you gotta pay attention cus this is really just for you," you chirped and nudged open the utility closet where a small, blue dome with an opening sat. "Even I hate this, but see this right here? You know what it is," he grumbled and growled. "Oh yeah, but I beat Sam in rock-paper-scissors so I don't have to go anywhere near your nasty shit, literally," you clapped your hands together. "But that's just for if we have to leave you alone or something, or when we sleep," you paused. "Now, I'm gonna start supper," you reached into one of the grocery bags and pulled out a hefty can of tuna.

Dean actually meowed, jumping to his feet and spinning in a circle as he pawed at your legs. Sam chuckles and so did you as you tore off the tin lid; you couldn't buy him cat food, that would just be too cruel, especially after pointing out a litter box, which was another thing you didn't want to deal with but. . .

You set the tin down and Sam grabbed the goodies, separating them from the groceries, before he hauled them off to lock up in his room. You shuffled around Dean as you moved to start supper, humming as you did so. It was strange, even though this was Dean, having an animal in the bunker. You hadn't had a pet in any form since you were a child; you didn't even have a virtual pet. Dean's humming and naturally soothing energy -- he was still a cat despite being a pain in the ass -- was a bit of a relief for you.

"What is that. . .terrible thing you have him in?"

You looked over your shoulder as you cranked up the stove, seeing Cas with a furrowed brow looking at Dean. "Its a piece of punishment," you chuckled. "Dean did something bad and he gets that sweater. He does anything else. . .we have surprises."

"Do not harm him."

"Oh please," Sam snorted as he reentered the too. "After what he did? I was dying to do a little worse, but she's a softy," you stuck your tongue out at him. "Why ya back, Cas? Any luck?"

Cas looked up from Dean, clearing his throat softly. "No, but I have cleaned any problems from the area. You will still be able to sense the object the two of you touched to cause this mess."

You nodded. "Alright, well whenever you're ready, we can go down there."

Cas hummed. "I believe I need to track down the remaining witch first," he paused. "She is weak, she's not to be worried about."

You sighed and rubbed your face thoroughly. "Well now I definitely am worried," you jumped when Dean leapt up onto the counter. "Okay, what is his deal?"

Cas watched Dean purr and paw at your arm, begging for a scratch behind the ear. "He may be getting closer to animal than human now," at your alarmed expression, his eyes widened. "But he'll be fine, I assure you. He will not completely convert, it is just a spell not a curse."

You sighed and frowned down at Dean as he purred and pawed at you, his tail flicking back and forth across the counter. "Well, its getting a little weird. He won't. . .leave me alone," you paused. "Well, except when we were hunting him down to put this sweater on him, them he ran like I tried to pour acid on him."

"I would as well," he murmured, his eyes flickering to what you were cooking. "Why was Dean eating tuna fish and not what you are cooking, ______?"

You looked over at Cas, licking your bottom lip. "Because, he's Dean but he is still in a cats body, it could upset his stomach."

"What _are_ you cooking exactly," Sam gave the pot an odd look.

You grinned and wiggled your eyebrows at him. "It be a surprise," you chirped. "Cas, I know you don't need to eat, but are you gonna stay for supper?"

He hesitated. "Um. . .I believe I should try to get a hold of that witch instead."

You frowned and walked around the counter, pulling him into a hug. "Alrighty then," you gave him a small smile. "Be careful, okay? I mean, I know you will but. . .ya know."

He chuckled and smiled shyly at you. "I will, _____," he looked over at Dean, who was blinking lazily at him. "I feel as though I should say something."

You chuckled and rubbed his arm before you started back towards the stove. "Yeah, cats do that to you, now go find that bitch so we can fix this."

"Yes ma'am."

Sam chuckled as Cas disappeared and you grinned. "I like the sound of that."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to come out yesterday as a sort of Valentine's gift to those lonely like me but I was busy starting this new story for Fallout and time slipped away from me.

Its funny, having a cat that's allergic to itself, though you're pretty sure Dean doesn't find this funny - like, at all. But he just keeps sneezing every time he opens his mouth and for some reason its the funniest fucking thing you've ever seen.

"Are you ever gonna stop laughing," Sam questioned, giving you a side glance as he turned down the dirt road.

You snickered when Dean glared from your lap, but he seemed to gain some sort of satisfaction when he began to knead your leg, claws making you cringe. This back and forth was so worth it, all he could do was claw at you and a spray of water to the face usually solved the problem real fast so no worries. Still, the sweater pissed him off to no end and you and Sam had an extra little surprise tonight. Two, if he didn't behave himself, and you were kind of hoping he gave you a reason.

 _Knowing Dean_. . .

"We almost there," you looked up, scratching softly at your neck.

Dean pushed himself up, his head bobbing unstably as you all bumped along the road. "Yeah, we're pretty close. Cas should be waiting for us."

Just as he said that, the car breached the rows of trees and you saw Cas standing outside the crumbling home. You perked up a little seeing him and for some reason, Dean growled, making you frown.

"Hush, you," you scolded and opened the door as Sam killed the engine.

Dean leapt from your arms and hit the ground with a grunt, trotting off into the bushes and you chuckled as his sweater sparkled in the sunlight. He glared over his shoulder before he disappeared into the bushes; Cas gave his retreating figure a concerned look as you approached him.

"Is it safe to let Dean wonder off like that," he questioned, following you up the stairs.

"He's probably going to piss, Cas, you go try to stop him."

He cleared his throat awkwardly, him and Sam ducking through the short door frame; you frowned again, darn taller people. The house still smelt like witchcraft: Thistle and may leaves, dried blood from whatever was the victim of the day be it human or animal in nature. Elves ears hung from the doorways, warding against the very humans entering the building and you could have sworn you had torn those down whenever you had come raging in the other night.

_Gross shit._

"Where's the final witch," you questioned Castiel, looking over the spells taped to the walls; some were in other languages and written as if typed.

"In the basement," you and Sam both looked over at him. "She is bound, we are all safe from any spell verbal or otherwise that she could possibly know."

"Every time we think that, shit like Dean getting turned into a cat happens," you arched an eyebrow at Cas as you turned back around to examine the spells. "He needs to hurry the fuck up anyway."

"He hasn't even touched the box," you had to join in on Sam's snickering. "He's probably trying to accomplish everything out here."

"I can't wait until he's human again," you said pleasantly. "I'm gonna fuck with him so hard about this."

"You and me both," Sam chuckled. "But you get first crack, he deserves whatever else you can throw at him."

Cas looked between the two of you in a confused manner. "What did Dean do that was so terrible?"

You gave him a glance over your shoulder again, catching Sam's curious glance; you shrugged and he almost looked relieved. "He uh. . .he didn't let _ know he was a cat the first night and caught her. . . _relieving some stress_."

You were actually pretty surprised it didn't take Cas too long to let it click and when he did, you heard him softly whisper _Oh_ beneath his breath.

"Aw, my lil Cas is growin up," you snickered as you threw your arms around his neck.

He sputtered into your ear, arms flailing slightly at his sides. You both really jumped, however, when you both heard a soft growl and looked down at Dean, who had a disgruntled look on his face. His tail flicked back and forth in an annoyed way and you sighed, letting go of Cas. He adjusted his coat - which there was really no point because its not like you had really rustled it much - and gave Dean an odd look, to which you waved at the angry cat man with one hand.

"And _this_ is getting weird," you muttered. "He's super possessive and shit, I mean I know you said it'd just be a natural reaction for a cat but its still Dean, ya know?"

Cas nodded softly, watching Dean brush against your leg. "I do find it odd, but all we must do is find the object you and he touched, then I can go about finding the reverse spell for it."

You clapped your hands together, rocking back on your heels. "Alright then, lets do this," you looked down at Dean. "You can search on your own," he meweled as you turned on your heel and stalked off into another room.

You made sure not to touch anything, not even using your knife as you usually did just in case. You didn't need the knife to get cursed to and possibly turn into a man. No, just a simple comb-over with your eyes would have to do and there were a lot of things to go over. Maybe it was that medallion you had been fondling before you went thrashing around with that witch? Or maybe it was even something inconspicuous like a picture frame or even the damn doorknob. But you felt as though it were implied that you would just be able to recognize it, or even feel whatever you two had touched.

Now that you thought more about it, you felt an odd warmth in your fingers the further up the stairs you went.

The boards creaked beneath your sneakers and you looked around, finding it to be a single room and Dean was already inside. He was sitting on the floor, tail making a fan shape in the pine shaving that littered the floor, and he was staring up at the small, round table in front of him. He barely gave you a side glance as you stopped beside him, your fingertips twitching in annoyance as you stated at. . .a picture.

"I was just being sarcastic but I'll be damned," you murmured and plucked Dean up and held him in your arms. "Hey Cas, I think we found what we're looking for."

"________, the bitch is loose!"

" _Fuuuuck_ ," you whined, reaching back for your gun and holding it out in front of you, struggling with Dean held against your chest with your free arm. "Why, why the fuck does she have to be loose," Dean growled, his claws digging into your arms. "How much you wanna bet Cas didn't even tie her up because he was too confident in his own powers," Dean hissed and you smirked. "Yeah, figured I would be right."

You could hear the bitch wail somewhere in the house, which kind of reminded you of one of these monsters on a video game you saw -

Your eyes widened to saucers when she came panting up the steps, the epitome of swamp witch, so unlike her sisters which were actually kind of pretty. Stringy, wet hair and pale skin, sunken eyes with a bad, dark hue around the sockets. Her dress was torn in various places and she needed a manicure more than anything on this Earth.

"Oh sweetheart," you murmured and started firing.

Thankfully - and also terribly - the room wasn't that big so she didn't have many places to dodge your bullets and almost a full clip was loaded in her before she stumbled. She shook her head fiercely and, when she went to scream again for some fucking reason, you fired right into her face. It clipped through her hair and she stumbled backwards before she fell forward.

Right on top of you.

"Oh my _God,_ " you whined, pushing her limp body off of you; she wasn't dead, unfortunately. "Why do I always have to be covered in witch blood?!"

Dean growled yet again and wiggled out of your arms, hitting the floor and shaking what little droplets of blood had hit him. Yep, definitely getting a bath because he refused that twitch that screamed _JUST LICK THE SHIT OFF OF YOU_.

Silver lining.

Sam's look of concern when he reached the top of the stairs immediately went to amusement as he hauled the witch up off of the floor. "So, two bath's tonight," he murmured when he was sure Dean was gone grumbling down the stairs.

He was probably pissed off he didn't get to kill the witch.

"Oh yeah," you sighed and gestured to the picture. "That's it," you looked up at Cas.

He nodded, sheepish. "I believed I had her under control," he murmured.

"Its fine, Cas, just make sure you tie her up or something this time."

"I'll do it," Sam chirped. "Go find Dean, make sure he isn't trying to tear his fur out or whatever."

You rolled your eyes but nodded and started after Dean, not seeing him in the house. Well, you didn't really expect him to stay, seeing as he hated witches more than you and, honestly, even if you didn't mind the bitches, that house was not a place you were willing to spend anymore time in.

"Don't just wander off like that," you scolded him as you approached; he was sitting on the hood of the Impala, purring his heart out. "Warm, isn't it," he only looked up through hooded eyes. "Oh yeah, that's the good stuff."

It was. . .like, there wasn't a word to describe treating Dean like a cat. You never even thought you could get the word cat in the same sentence as Dean's name without him shouting NO first, or at least somewhere in the middle. He said he didn't necessarily hate cats - wasn't fond, but it wasn't hate - he just hated his allergies messing with his head.

And, on cue, he sneezed.

"Hopefully, those two in there will have this all sorted out soon," Dean huffed. "Wishful thinking, right," he blinked slowly at you. "Man, I don't know if I'll be happy or sad when you can talk again."

He gave a weird noise that would have possibly been a snort before Sam came strolling out of the house. "Well, she's all tied up and baby proofed," he looked over at Dean. "You okay," Dean meweled softly and jumped down from the hood. Hurry up, I'm sure _______ would like to get another shower."

You snorted. "You're right, she sure would," you waited until Dean was out of sight before you continued talking. "I don't know, maybe we put off the bath for later. I kind of just wanna go home and. . .relax, I've been here for twenty minutes and I'm tired."

Sam sighed but nodded. "Okay, okay, I don't like Dean out in the open like this anyway. I'll drive you two back and come help Cas get some info out of this witch."

"Your call, boss," you pushed off the hood gently and started for the passenger door, holding it open for Dean. "Remember not to knead the leather," he gave you a look. "Hey, don't do that, just be extra careful. Remember, cats are assholes and usually don't care about the seats."

He huffed and sat in the floor, glaring at his paws which made you chuckle. The drive back went like that, Dean glaring at everything that moved and didn't move, sulking into the bunker before Sam left in his own rinky-dink little hooptie. You didn't really care, anymore, where Dean went because you could go on and on for days about how terrible enchanted blood smelled. You didn't know what it was about it, but the smell was more potent than anything you had smelt so far.

And you were ready to get it off.

You toed off your shoes near the garage door and made your way to the bathrooms, working the buttons on your shirt as you went. Not your flannel, but it always seemed appropriate when Dean and Sam were always dressed in so many layers of plaid, flannel and just layers in general.

"I just washed this," you mumbled, wiggling your hips as you tugged down you jeans. "Ridiculous."

You sighed and turned on the shower, checking your reflections, frowning at the bloody flakes in your hair - you fucking hated witches even more.

You turned to shut the door, grumbling beneath your breath, when you saw those pretty green eyes. Yours grew, fingers tightening until your fingers ached to the bone and Dean seemed frozen in the doorway.

" _Oh my fucking God!_ "

* * *

He was getting real sick of this whole 'waking up on the couch alone' thing; a thing that apparently carried from human to animal.

Dean lifted his head and blinked through blurry eyes, his tongue flicking out over too-sensitive whiskers as he looked for you. He remembered getting screamed at, thrown out into the hallway and then finding you passed out on the couch after several hours of hiding. . .and he'd jumped up and fell asleep on he cushion beside you.

He didn't even want to start thinking about these odd little feelings blooming in his head, the attachments and the possessiveness; he honestly just hoped it was an animal thing, he could live with that. Not that you. . .see, over thinking shit got him in dangerous waters.

 

 

Dean sighed and struggled to his feet, shaking everything from his head to his tail and then - what the fuck was that?

Dean blinked slowly, realization slowly starting to settle in the more he moved. He jumped down from the couch and heard it again, that annoying fucking jingle and he looked up at the television; did Captain America jingle? He grumbled and started padding towards the kitchen, his tail flicking back and forth faster and faster.

The noise was fucking following him!

His eyes widened and he fell back on his ass, raising his back leg and scratching viciously at the back of his ear; _fleas?! Fuck_. He hissed when a claw got stuck on something around his neck and he pawed at it.

_That bitch._

He growled and took off down the hallway, wiggling through the crack in the door and hissed at your back; you looked down at him, smirking slowly around a mouthful of something.

"Ha! I told you it would piss him off," you pointed your fork at Sam, plucking up another piece of the something he had made you; it wasn't that bad.

Sam peered over the edge of the counter, chuckling at Dean who continued to mewl and hiss, spin in circles around your feet. When he tried to jump on the counter, this time, you swatted him on the ass.

He hit the floor and looked offended.

"Stop spying on me naked you perv," you snapped but right now, it was humorous. "And maybe I'll stop torturing you but this thing is staying on, you're not sneaking up on me anymore."

Dean let out a long, mournful meow and slumped to the floor, huffing as he sprawled out at the edge of your stool. His eyes flickered around, tail thumping against the floor; you chuckled again and went back eating.

Honestly, you were surprised you had even gotten the thing on him. Thankfully, he hadn't seemed to gain an animals ability to wake up at the sound of a pin dropping, so that had to add to the ease. It was funnier considering you just added more pink to his person and oh my when he found out.

"By the way," you cleared our throat before you grinned; his eyes instantly shifted in worry. "Prepare for a bath, mister."

He hissed and scrambled to his feet, bolting out of the kitchen and leaving you and Sam to snicker. You sighed pleasantly, picking up your water and smiling at Sam.

"This is so much fun."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, next chapter is the last one. And its most likely going to be very long. Hopefully.

"So we need juniper, nightshade, thistle and the frame, right?"

"Yes, that seems to be the basics of the spell. A pure soul needs to bleed, copy the seals and then the spell will be broken."

Sam sighed and looked over at you, chuckling when you cackled at Dean trying in vain to get his new sweater off. "This is the most they've gotten along in a while," he looked back to Castiel. "I'm almost sad to have the regular Dean back."

Cas chuckled, watching Dean huff and fall onto the floor; he sneezed violently and looked miserable, but not as miserable as he could have been. You were saying something to him, but neither the angel nor Sam were curious enough to listen.

"Well, you look for nightshade," Sam sighed and stretched his arms back over his head. "I have the thistle and juniper here."

Cas nodded. "I will not be gone for too long, keep Dean in your sights and we can have him back tonight."

"Guess I should go break it to one of them."

"Break what to who," you cocked your head, arms tightening around Dean, who was growling softly but wasn't fighting you anymore in how you held him. "Is everything okay? Can we get Dean back or. . .?"

Sam smiled softly as Cas walked away, mumbling to himself about. . .nightshade? "Yeah, we may actually be able to get him back by tonight, you just seemed to be having so much fun with him as a cat. . ."

"And he's gonna get us both back in full," you chuckled and adjusted him in your arms. "Well, what do we need to do?"

"I'm gonna look for the materials we need here in the bunker and Cas is looking for the final ingredient," he paused and scratched at the back of his head nervously. "And uh. . .we're gonna need some of your blood."

You blinked slowly at him. "Uh. . . _why_ now?"

He cleared his throat nervously. "Well, Cas said we need a pure soul to bleed, and you're the purest thing around so. . ."

"For some reason, I take offense to that."

He chuckled. "Yeah, maybe you know my next question," you arched an eyebrow. "Are you still uh. . .ya know?"

You froze for a moment then your lips popped into a nearly silent 'oh' and you nodded shyly. "Yeah," you were inches from burying your face in Dean's fur. "Yeah, still _intact_."

Sam nodded, giving you a mildly sympathetic look. "Alright, well you and Dean just chill while I get everything together and then we just wait for Cas' cue."

"Okie dokie," you hummed and perked up a little. "Think we can go outside? Or would that be too risky?"

Sam hesitated. "I would rather the two of you stay inside for good measure."

You nodded and then groaned. " _Fiiiine_ ," you turned towards the bedrooms. "I'm watching tv in your room," you called over your shoulder.

You could hear his chuckle. "Fine, fine - no crumbs on my bed!"

You waved a dismissive hand over your head and then tucked that back where it was, leaving Dean's lower body to sway back and forth against your stomach. Dean sniffled against your arm, trying to rub his face but his awkward position made that nearly impossible. You chuckled and readjusted your arms to where you carried him like a baby and that seemed to make it worse. A soft growl started in his chest and you laughed; you'd never seen anything look so annoyed in your life.

"Keep giving me looks like that and I'll start treating you even more like a cat," you set him down gently on the edge of the bed. "I have some catnip in this bottle," you pulled the small little sprayer from your sweater pocket. " Always wanted to see you stoned. . ."

You chuckled at the alarmed expression on Dean's face and looked down at the bottle as you walked around to sit on the side Sam usually favored. The bed wasn't that big, and neither was Dean's, which begged the question of how they even fit in these things? You didn't dwell on that too long, seeing as while Dean growled at cleaning his face like a good kitty, you covered a spray of the catnip with a loud cough.

Dean jumped and looked at you with offended, big green eyes, paw on his mouth. "Sorry," you cringed; inside you were cackling madly, praying this would work. "Guess the spring air is starting to get to me again. . ." You _had_ hacked rather violently at breakfast this morning after your walk.

Dean narrowed his eyes slightly and went back to cleaning his face while you looked for something to watch. What you wouldn't give for basic cable right now, something other than a rewatch of some show or a movie you knew by heart.

You blinked back into awareness from the first of the movie credits to Dean padding up beside you. He stares at your face for a long time, tail swishing lazily back and forth before he climbed onto your lap, nuzzling against your hand. You smiled and happily ran your fingers over the top of his head as he purred and kneaded your legs, getting comfortable.

You would miss this.

You would miss this easiness, how calm he was around you, how calm you were around him. Though picking on him without fearing retaliation was fun, you did feel bad for it because even regular cats seemed disgruntled by the whole ordeal, you couldn't imagine how a human in a cats body had to feel, let alone this being Dean.

He sneezed violently, head shaking side to side when he did it again. He let out a weird noise that was best described as a whine and you almost chuckled, but thought better of it.

"It'll all be over soon," you assured him, brow furrowing slightly when his skin along his spine started to twitch violently; he didn't seem to notice just yet, so you just grinned and wiggled into Sam's truly amazing pillow. "And you'll have opposable thumbs and it'll be easier to get revenge on us."

He blinked lazily and fell on his side, his chest expanding with a large breath. Yours did the same after a moment, when his eyes continued to stare at the television without a hint of drooping; his tail flicked back and forth over the sheets, but that was nothing. Guess catnip doesn't affect him, what a waste of money, Sam would definitely be disappointed.

You looked up at the ceiling, fingers twitching at your sides. You would be glad to have Dean back, that way you could go outside without being as worried anymore. You were always afraid to go outside, and of course you had your reasons now that you knew what was out there. Witches, werewolves, demons, vampires, banshees, shape shifters - they were all real. Every monster from your childhood story books, they were all so real and so scary, but you usually had both six foot plus Winchesters at your back when you stepped out that door.

They didn't really seem to understand how damn safe they were. You never worried about too much anymore, living in this bunker with them was the safest you had felt in. . .well, too long.

Dean being a cat kind of put a damper on that feeling.

Dean being a cat put a damper on a lot of feelings.

"Its gonna suck having you human again," you whispered softly once you were sure Dean was asleep.

* * *

Nothing like waking up to claws to the face.

"God dammit," you grumbled and wrapped your arms tighter around the pillow, burying your face into it. "Go _away_ Dean."

You felt the claws again and a long mewl, then the gentlest of nips to the face. Of course, even that sent a jolt of pain through your cheek and your head shot up off of the pillow. Dean shrieked and scrambled backwards off the side of the bed, claws dragging some of the sheets with him and that's when you noticed the deep laughter in the room. You couldn't even muster up a glare as you looked over at Sam, eyes wide and heart racing; your cheeks were so hot they burned.

" _Not funny_ ," you whined and threw his pillow at him.

He caught it without a hitch in his laughter, grinning at you when you snatched up Dean and scolded him. "C'mon Sleeping Beauty," he tossed the pillow back at you. "Its time to meet Cas at the house."

You rubbed at your eyes as Dean crawled out of your arms, shaking his fur as he did so. "You let me sleep almost all day," it was more of an accusation than a question.

"You needed it," he turned for the door. "Come on now, you know how impatient he can be."

"Yeah, yeah," you mumbled and wiggled off the edge of the bed. "You didn't have to stick your teeth in my face," you grumbled at Dean.

He meowed softly and started rubbing his head against your legs, leaving a few wet streaks behind. You nudged him away despite his confused look and stomped past him; why were your cheeks so hot? Its not like it meant anything. . .okay, it actually meant a lot, and your brain kept trying to show you reason that it was just a cat thing but then logic said its still Dean drooling all over you, which was the damn truth.

"You're. . .you're going like that?"

You looked over at Sam, fingers still on the handle of the door. "What," you looked down at yourself, wiggling your toes against the floorboard of the Impala.

"Barefoot and in your pajamas? You don't get to stay in the car on this one, you know that right?"

You rolled your eyes and slammed the door shut at the same time Sam started the engine. "Just drive," you ordered.

"Yes ma'am."

You smirked in satisfaction and relaxed against the seat, staring at the back of Dean's head as he climbed into your lap. You were happy this job hadn't been too far away, Hell you could have all walked there, but laziness seemed to have prevailed on this one. You didn't want to have to sit in some shitty motel, in some shitty town with an annoyed, kitty Dean. That would have ruined a lot. . .but probably would have saved you some embarrassment now that you think about it.

"So, how much do I have to bleed," you hummed.

"Well, you're lucky on this one," Sam turned down the now-familiar dirt road. "The original cure for a spell like this was for the two afflicted to share a bed for the night," both yours and Dean's heads snapped towards Sam; the bastard chuckled. "But that was just a big lie for an old man to get lucky back in the day -- plus, I mean, Dean's a _cat._ The original origin is for your to cut both palms and write the seals Cas instructs you on in a circle around Dean. So we need enough blood for them to have complete lines."

You groaned. "Great, I'm gonna be nursing orange juice for days."

"Seems like it," Sam chuckled again. "But we'll have Dean back and everything will be back to as normal as it gets with us, so lets just get it over with."

You made a mocking face he couldn't see as you all pulled up to the house, the engine dying and silence flooding your senses. You opened the door and Dean leapt down immediately, seemingly excited; you supposed he would be, given his condition.

"You're finally here," Cas greeted you upon entering the house; he gave you a soft smile, which received an odd, annoyed growl from Dean, who was planted firmly between the two of you. "That is quite bothersome," Cas looked back up to you, his face now serious. "We must hurry and be done with this form."

Your brow furrowed and you followed Cas close behind towards the basement. "You seemed worried all of a sudden," you reached out for his coat sleeve and made him stop on the stairwell; Sam grunted as he bumped into you and Dean started dancing around your feet. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

Cas shook his head and gave you a soft, reassuring look. "All is well," he frowned at Dean. "But his possessiveness seems to worsen when I am near, so I want to be done with this as soon as possible, if you will."

He gestured for you to go ahead and you did, with a frown and Dean trotting ahead of you. Cas was right, maybe Dean was getting a bit more possessive when Cas was around, but you didn't understand his worry. Didn't he say it wasn't a curse? That he wouldn't spiral into an actual cat?

You're brain hurt.

The basement reeked of blood.

Well, not really, maybe _reek_ wasn't the proper term but the smell was strong, just not consistent. The only thing in the room was the table at the far side of the room, a curved blade set beside a bowl that looked like a hollowed out rock. There was a dried up purple flower on the side, a fat candle with three wicks burning above it. There was a stain of blood in the corner of the room and a busted chair, but you ignored that in favor of letting Sam by.

"I feel like I'm about to be sacrificed," you murmured, leaning against the wall.

Sam chuckled and pulled the last bit of supplies from his bag, dropping the bag onto the floor. "No, no sacrificing today," he turned to you and held out a hand. "Just some blood."

You sighed tiredly, and pushed off of the wall, letting him grab your hand. Cas picked up Dean and set him in the center of the room, where he sat and didn't move save for his tail flopping against the ground.

"I don't like this," you mumbled, fingers curling around the blades carved hilt. "Why me?"

"Because we don't need to bring some civilian into this now c'mon, stop complaining."

"I promise nothing," you chirped.

"Now," Cas interrupted and Sam turned back to the table, getting things ready to grind up, you supposed. "Sam will grind up the herbs and when he burns half of them, you will spill the blood into the bowl with the remaining herbs and write the symbols yourself."

You nodded. "Okay, what do these symbols look like?"

Cas looked over at Sam. "Do you have them?"

Sam looked over his shoulder and his eyebrows shot into his hairline. "Yeah, yeah," he stopped what he was doing and reached for the bag again. "They weren't easy to track down, but I got 'em all," he passed a folded piece of yellow paper to you. "Luckily for us, you didn't have to recite an incantation because aside from the translation for the symbols - single words by the way - the language is lost."

"Witches trying too hard to be smart," you mumbled, unfolding the piece of paper. "So this is it? No side effects, no extra _umph_ we need? just do the symbols and drink lots of OJ?"

Sam chuckled and turned back towards his work. "Yeah, that's basically it."

You nodded though his back was turned to you and looked over at Dean. He had his eyes closed but he was still sitting up, stiff as a board really save for that tail flicking back and forth through the dirt on the floor.

You jumped when there was a soft hand on your elbow and looked up at Cas; right, he was tall. "May I speak to you for a moment," he questioned.

You hesitated, looking over at Dean; he was watching the both of you now, his tail immobile. "Uh. . .I don't. . .sure, sure why not?"

There wasn't really a stretch to get to privacy, just the both of you sitting on the steps leading down to the basement because Cas didn't want to get too far. Cas' body heat was a tad stifling in the cramped space and you shifted uncomfortably before looking over at the silent angel.

"Ya know, since you're the one that brought me up here, you really should start first."

He blinked and looked over at you, chuckling softly though his lips barely rose. "I suppose you are correct."

"I am."

"Yes well. . .I suppose curiosity is the main inspiration for this interaction," you already wanted to take a nap. "Given Dean's protective nature, it is not unusual for him to be so aggressive in. . .well, claiming what is his," you furrowed your brow. "And that is amplified by the animal instincts, however docile, he has now but. . .well, his behavior is not that of a jealous feline, it is that of a jealous lover," you eyebrows shot into your bangs and Cas cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I was just curious as to if you and Dean were. . .if you had. . ."

"No," you answered right away, though your voice shook with disappointment. "No, Dean and I. . .nothing has happened, never even came _close_ to happening."

He seemed to notice your saddened expression but said nothing, just let you sulk in silence. The information did make you tingle a little, made you a little light headed, but you tried to ignore that because it was ridiculous. Yeah you tried for Dean, but all he ever did was maintain the steady flow of friendzoning your ass.

You didn't need to hear this.

You slapped your hands on your thighs and stood, looking down at Cas' wide eyed little face. "C'mon, I think Sam should be ready by now."

He nodded and you jogged down the steps back into the basement, brushing past he bristled spine of Dean's back, intent on getting out of this stifling basement as soon as possible.

"You ready," you questioned Sam as he picked up a decent handful of crushed herbs.

"Yeah," he kept his eyes serious and focused as he sprinkled the dust - that's what it looked like - onto the flames; you could hear them pop and hiss as an intoxicating smell began to fill the room. "Go ahead and start."

"Damn," you mumbled, rubbing at your eyes. "That shit is strong."

Sam gave you a curious look as you adjusted the grip on the blade. "You smell something?"

"You don't," he shook his head and you looked over at Dean and he was scratching at his face, sniffling. "Must just be us."

Sam sighed. "Then lets hurry before it gets to be too much."

You grimaced at the bowl when he picked it up, staring into the dust with a rainbow hue in some places. The blade was sharp, so sharp your body didn't react to the pain right away, once you cut into your other palm, you felt the stinging pain and hissed between your teeth.

"Oh my fuck, that hurts," you stomped your foot as Cas caressed your palm, forcing more blood out of the skin. " _Cas!_ Come on, I think that's enough."

His frown deepened but he didn't stop, not until the bowl was full enough to make your head swim. When he let go of your palm, you swayed on your feet, stumbling into him as you tried to blink away the haze to your eyes.

"Is it the herbs making her act so lethargic already," Sam questioned, curling your fingers around the bowl without missing a beat.

"It is a possibility," Cas murmured against your hair. "She should not be so light headed yet."

"Also sick to my stomach," you grumbled, and it was echoed by Dean's seemingly faint growl, or groan, something. "Let's get this done."

And Cas let you go, which earned him a heavy glare from you but you dipped two fingers into the gooey mess and stirred slowly, feeling your stomach flopping and clenching at the feel, the sight. . .the smell.

"Bullshit," you mumbled, crouching down in front of Dean and starting to write down the first of the symbols. "Almost there," you whispered, looking up at Dean.

He jerked his head up a little, nostrils visibly flaring; his pupils were huge, nearly swallowing those beautiful green irises. You shook your head softly, shuffling to the next spot; _no, no thinking about his handsome fucking face right now._

The smell was flooding your senses, making it hard to stay on your toes - literally. You were only halfway done and she was feeling like you hadn't slept in weeks. You would definitely need to nap after this, like immediately.

"Can you catch me," you murmured when the bowl was empty and rolling on the floor.

You fell into a trench coat, which wasn't a surprise to you and you didn't really care because you sighed against the collar of his shirt and closed your eyes. You scrunched up your face when there was a bright light glowing through your lids, a loud humming starting in the room. You peered up softly and then immediately closed your eyes.

"Oh my God that's bright," you whined and shoved your face back into his collar.

"I will take her to the car," Cas spoke over the humming. "Bring Dean up when the ritual is complete."

"Gotcha," you hear Sam confirm behind you.

You groaned when you stomach rolled at Cas' quick steps, clinging to his coat and complaining in his ear.

"I hate witches," you moaned, curling up in the back seat.

Cas chuckled, looking back towards the house. "Yes, they seem to be a problem for you and the Winchesters."

You looked over at him through narrowed eyes. "They're evil," you said firmly and pushed your face back into the seat. "I wanna just kill them all. . .and they're lore."

"I believe that is impossible thanks to the humans internet."

"Thanks Cas."

He chuckled and you just tuned him out, wrapping your arms tightly around your middle. The feeling was better, much better, but there was still a bit of pain in your stomach. Your head didn't swim anymore and you didn't feel lightheaded but you felt. . . _empty_. Maybe you were hungry, that would probably explain it, but there goes that sudden wave of nausea and you groaned, rocking side to side.

You wondered how Dean was faring, if he was feeling just as sick. . .if he was human again.

You wanted Dean human again, but there were so many things from cat Dean you would miss, and that wasn't all about the torture you could manage.

You didn't realize you had been dozing off until the engine started up and you barely woke up through that. You cracked one eye open and looked back over your shoulder, feeling the sickness bubbling up again, and saw Sam behind the wheel.

"S-Sam," you mumbled. "Where's Dean?"

He gave you a quick look and smiled, but it didn't spread wide like usual. "He's right here," he reached over to the passenger seat where you couldn't see. "Cas thinks the spell won't react right away, but he says we followed everything properly. Dean's out cold, and still a cat. We'll put him in his room and wait."

You nodded groggily and rolled back over, stretching a little to wake up but you didn't plan on lifting your head any time soon.

"How you feelin?"

You groaned and shook your head. "I don't feel as bad as before, but I'm still pretty sure if I sit up I'll puke everywhere."

"Well, want me to bring Dean inside and come pick you up?"

You shook your head again, though you were pretty sure he wasn't looking at you. "No, no just. . .take him inside and I'll work on sitting up. Slowly."

"Alright," you heard the engine die and was mildly surprised that the whole ordeal was over so fast. "I'll come check on you in fifteen if you're not up."

You nodded and waved a hand at him, tucking it back around your stomach. It probably wouldn't take that long to get out of the car, but you wouldn't mind the moment to gather your head. . .and learn how to lift it again.

The car rocked as Sam shut the passenger door, presumably with Dean in his arms as his muffled murmurs faded away.

"I can do this," you murmured despite the queasy feeling in your gut.

You gripped the top of the back seat in one hand, taking steady breaths through your mouth as you slowly pulled yourself up. You grabbed at it with your other hand and kept your eyes focused on the callous forming on the edge of your finger so as to prevent your head from spinning too badly. It seemed to work, with your head sort of steady even when the door groaned open.

"I did it," your voice trembled and you smiled in a manic way. "I-I actually did it."

Did the ritual cause a mild case of insanity? Because you were super pumped about this whole sitting up thing.

"Now," you murmured, slowly closing the door by leaning your entire body against it. "To make it to my bedroom. . .and maybe bribing Sam into bringing me snacks."

Sam would be a good mom.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its three in the morning here and I was waiting to post Wednesday but I just couldn't seeing as I didn't realize how long I left you guys hanging. This may end up edited because I just don't feel I hit the mark I was trying to reach with the ending but I hope you all enjoy. If not, just tell me and I may edit idk

There was a time when you actually felt safe in a simple neighborhood.

Out in the open.

You were a naive human, comfortable and content, at peace with your future you could have sworn was meant for you.

But no, no things changed so fast and now, only months after meeting the Winchesters, your life was completely different.

Where normal mornings you were agitated from homework you hadn't completed, this morning you were puking from what must have been the after effects of witchy ingredients.

"Oh my God, please kill me," you moaned, rolling your forehead softly against the cool tiles of the floor - smelt like too much lemon Lysol. "Sam! _Pleeeease!_ "

He chuckle softly in the doorway, crossing his ankles as he stared down at you. "I think you're okay," he hummed.

You whimpered, rolling on the floor a little too dramatically. Really, it was mostly all of these fucking smells driving you up the wall, making you vomit. Sam didn't smell them, said it was all in your head, but you knew these smells were related to cleaners and perfume, the wet cloth hanging over the edge of your tub. Every fucking smell was driving you up the wall, making you itchy and Jesus Christ you wanted to just be drug away and dropped outside.

"H-How is Dean," you murmured, dragging yourself back to your knees just in case.

Sam hummed and straightened himself. "He's fine, curled up in bed and still has whiskers. . ."

"Aw man," you whined. "I wanna see that so bad."

Sam chuckled. "Yeah, yeah I bet you do," he paused. "But you stay here, think you can stomach some food?"

You hesitated, rubbing at your stomach softly. "I don't know to be honest," you sighed. "No, no I just think I'm gonna spoon the toilet a little longer and curl up in bed."

Sam chuckled. "Alright, alright I'll come check on you again later."

You waved a hand at Sam, sighing against the cool surface of the wall against the back of your head. All morning, you'd been in here all morning and you were just drained. Jelly limbs, a flipping stomach, a migraine that wanted to come and go as it pleased. You'd tried begging Cas into fixing you but he wouldn't touch you, saying something about interfering and the effects not taking. . .blah, blah, blah.

So here you were, moaning about dying and all that nonsense.

"I'm gonna get someone back for this," you murmured, closing your eyes and sighing. "I don't know who. . .but I'll get them."

Because of course your logic was sound.

* * *

So, apparently your body does this neat little trick when it believes you are dying -- when in reality, you're just falling asleep really fast -- and it decides to give you a jolt, a mini-heart attack.

It makes it feel like you're falling.

It thinks its being helpful, doing the right thing, being a good samaritan you suppose.

But it scared the shit out of you every time it did that.

Now was no. . .wait a minute, you really _were_ falling.

"Mother fu -" you scrambled, trying to cling to whoever that was dropping you, but they just lost their arms all together.

Not literally, of course.

You squeaked when you hit the bed, head swimming and your hands digging deep into the sheets to find some sort of anchor. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, muscles tense when your stomach lurched and threatened to lose whatever was possibly left in it all over the bed. Did you even possibly have something left in there? Sam never got back to you with any food or questions of it so you probably were only able to dry heave.

Your eyes flew open when the bed dipped beside you and you found a very shirtless Dean Winchester sitting there. . .staring at you. . .shirtless. . .

"H-Hey," you sputtered defensively, kind of afraid of the way he was looking at you. "No whiskers. . ."

"Yeah," oh, yeah he wasn't happy judging by that monotone answer. "You and I need to talk."

"About what," _dumbass._

"You put me in a fucking sweater," he narrowed his eyes.

"You-You saw me - !" You clamped your hands over your mouth, embarrassment immediately ebbing into your cheeks.

"Yeah," he leaned forward a little; he probably didn't even notice. "Yeah I know what I saw."

"You _watched_ me you asshole," you hit him with both hands against his chest; made him grunt, but otherwise he didn't move and you pouted. "You deserved everything and more! I mean its one thing hearing it, but _watching me?!_ No, no that's not cool at all."

And he just stared at you.

Blank, unmoving, critical, and it made you squirm.

Your stomach still had an ache in it and now you were nervous, so it twisted and flipped out of your control. And he wasn't going anywhere, he was still staring at you like he were trying to figure something out. You didn't like that look, not directed at you especially; your cheeks were heating from the memory. No, no he deserved every bit of punishment he got for doing that, you would never take it back by giving him an apology.

Your eyes flickered down his throat, chest, back up immediately because he was still staring at you and you didn't want him to think you were doing something like you most definitely were doing.

"Dean," you murmured in a questioning tone. "Can you. . .say something?"

His jaw twitched, rocked once or twice, and then his face seemed to relax a little. But he still didn't speak. Comforting, real fucking comforting - was it all really that bad? It was just a fucking. . .

". . . _hot_."

You blinked a few times, brow furrowed as you came out of your mental ranting. "Huh," real smooth.

He chuckled and you noticed his face had softened up and he had leaned in closer. "I said, I thought it was pretty hot," your eyes widened. "I mean, now I do, when I was a cat, I was just embarrassed."

"B-But you still -"

"Being a cat was different," he paused. "Not too much different, but it was still enough to notice. Like when I saw you, when I was around you. . ." He trailed off, looking both embarrassed and thoughtful. "Gave me a little perspective, and it changes a few things for me."

Your brow furrowed. "Like what," you murmured, cheeks lightly flushed.

His eyes ran down your face, slowly, critical almost. "It helped me figure out what exactly I wanted to do."

You opened your mouth to speak but cut yourself off, jaw bobbing, eyes watching his eyebrows quirk into curiosity. Could he be anymore vague? Well, he was a Winchester after all, you should have been used to the balance of utterly vague and cheeky bluntness that spewed from them.

"What do you want to do, Dean," you questioned slowly, like you weren't quite sure if those were the words you wanted to use.

He chuckled and you nearly melted, not having heard it in too long. And here you were again, that love sick little pup that would bend in whatever way Dean Winchester wanted you too.

"So who's name did you wanna scream out," _oh fuck he was so much closer now_.

You sputtered and then clamped your teeth down hard on your bottom lip, leaning back a little. Your cheeks were steadily heating under his eyes and your own embarrassment because you were hoping he wouldn't have even noticed. But by the way his eyes crinkled in the corner, he definitely noticed.

"Oh God I wanna die," you murmured, burying your face into your hands.

Dean chuckled and easily pulled your hands from your face, his own calm and it made you all gooey. "Now why would you wanna do that?"

Your brow creased. "Why would I _not_ want to," you shook your head a little. "I mean y-you _saw_ me and - and then the bathroom! Oh my God I could just die right here. . ." You trailed off, touching your burning cheeks thoughtfully. "Its just a little much I mean. . .like I said its one thing to hear me, I've heard you and Sam before and that just made me laugh but -"

"Uh mostly Sam," he chuckled and you gave a sort of nervous giggle. "Boy needs to get some action -"

"Yeah because you're not lacking," did you mean to have an edge to your tone? Maybe. "But its just. . .why did you stare, man?"

He shrugged immediately. "Thinking as a cat was weird, I didn't really see it as. . .that," he paused. "But now I do and lemme tell ya," you tensed as he leaned forward, his thumb coming up to stroke the heat of your cheek. "I'd like to offer my services."

Yeah, you had to be dead.

He came in and choked you because of what you did and now you were in a demented part of Hell or a more than gracious part of Heaven. It couldn't be possible - Dean Winchester and you? Or maybe he didn't mean it like that, maybe. . .maybe he was just thinking with his dick and wanted a roll in the sheets to see. . .

Pessimism ran like a wildfire through your thoughts until Dean chuckled yet again, shaking you back into reality.

"You think too hard," he stated simply, almost fondly.

You cleared your throat softly, giving him a shy look beneath your brow. "I. . .I was gonna say your name," you admitted softly, looking down at where your fingers twisted in the sheets. "But you were. . .right there and all, I couldn't just say it."

"Oh really now?"

On the list of sentences that create situations with any type of sexual undertone, _oh really now_ was pretty close to the top of the list. _Make me_ was number one obviously.

You blinked softly. "Y-Yeah," you murmured, looking away. "I could die right now, seriously I might just completely combust."

"No spontaneous combustion in the bunker," Dean poked at you with a wicked little grin on his face.

Your eyes ran over his face for a moment, tongue running against the back of your teeth. "Dean," you murmured. "What do you want?"

He cocked his head, the hints of his grin still settled in the corners of his mouth. "I don't know really," he hummed. "But I do have a few ideas."

"Oh."

"Come on, usually you're full of piss an' vinegar," he chuckled. "Cat got your tongue?"

"Shut up," you whined softly, aching to smile but you were nervous for some reason. "I just don't. . .don't know what to do," you sighed.

"Would you like a little help?"

You gave him a skeptical look. "I swear to God if you -"

"Just shut up already," he sighed and then smiled. "Okay, repeat after me," you nodded softly. "Dean Winchester is the sexiest motherfucker I have ever met in my life."

You didn't say anything for a long moment, staring blankly at him. "Dean," you started. "There is no way in Hell I will ever say that."

"Hmm," he leaned in closer, your stomach tied in one great big knot, breath caught in your throat. "How bout I make you scream it?"

Yeah, yeah it was a kiss.

Lips against lips, that warm tingly feeling in your cheeks and the urge to touch him. It was mechanical, but it was made so much better because it was him, it was Dean and you'd fantasized but never thought it would happen.

You inhaled sharply when he cupped the back of your head, fingers threading in your hair and holding you just a little tighter against him; you didn't complain. His tongue touched your bottom lip softly and you promptly bit your lip, pulling back from him; yeah, yeah a shy Hunter, what the fuck?

"Hey, hey," he furrowed his brow, fingers trailing from your hair to your shoulder. "What did I do?"

You shook your head and bit your lip again, looking up from beneath your brow. "Its just. . .a little much," you giggled. "I keep waiting for me to wake up or something, ya know? But I don't think that's coming. . ."

Dean nodded softly. "Okay, okay, we can go slow - we can do whatever the Hell you want, okay? Tell me what you want."

Well you couldn't very well do that, or could you? You'd never had to tell someone how to do this before. . .hadn't really told anyone what to do before.

"_____, have you ever. . .?"

You blinked slowly and more heat spread over your cheeks, the back of your neck. "I-I've done stuff yeah but. . .yeah, yeah I'm not a complete. . .you know," you inhaled deeply, squaring your shoulders back. "What do you want, Dean?"

He cocked his head softly. "Huh?"

You shook your head, eyes flickering down his chest then back up to his face. "What do you want from me," you arched an eyebrow, but you were pretty sure your expression resembled something akin to pain. "If you want a quick fuck - then I want you to leave. And we can pretend this never happened - I certainly will," you wouldn't. "But. . .I just can't do that. You mean way too much to me for a quickie and then that's it. Dean. . .I know commitment has never been your style, and I'm not asking for some deep relationship, soul mates or whatever, but I am looking for something a little more. More than what I'm afraid you'll give if I give you. . .me."

Dean stared at you as you spoke, face firm, in thought, and too almost feared he wasn't really listening to you, just nodding softly because he wanted to trick you - but then he smiled. It was fast, a sudden change in his demeanor and his shoulders shook, head lowering a little. He gave you a glorious smile, one that almost made you pout because it blatantly read 'you idiot'.

"Ya know. . .before the whole cat thing, I never thought of you in any other way than a sister," he paused as your hopes died a little on their own accord. "Okay, that's not true," he cleared his throat and straightened himself up a little. "You remember. . .when we went hunting werewolves in Jackson?"

You cracked a smile. "Yeah, and I saved your asses -"

"By getting _your_ ass almost mauled," Dean arched an eyebrow.

Your smile dropped and you hung your head. "Okay. . ."

Dean chuckled. "Anyway, Sam had you in the tub at the motel and he was stitching up your leg while you were all doped up on pain meds and. . .I mean there was a shit ton of blood and it was hard to see through what was yours and what was the damn monsters but you laying there. . .moaning and all. . .even with the blood I have to say, I realized you were actually a woman and not that dork we picked up."

"Think your wires are a little crossed there Dean Winchester," you murmured.

He shook his head. "Shut up, kid. My point is, after that I saw you different but after this whole incident. . .I won't get too mushy about it, but I don't ever want to hurt you in any way ever again. So. . .no, if you want to do this, I won't just brush you off. Though I'm not promising this huge dump of romance and shit."

For some reason, that made you chuckle. "I get it," you hesitated and reached out, grabbing his hand. "And just so you know, nine outta ten I was in no way going to say no to you."

"So why are we still talking," you tensed when he moved forward suddenly, but you didn't shrink away when his hand gently grasped the small of your back. "Now, about that kiss you so rudely interrupted. . ."

Your lips twitched towards a smile but when his touched yours, you melted a little. Who gave two shits if he was lying, you wanted Dean.

He untangled your hand from his, the one at your back tugging you forward. You gasped into his mouth when you felt his fingers run up the crotch of your pants, finding the heat there. He pressed the heel of his hand against the top of your slit, digging the fabric in roughly and causing mixed reviews. But your hips bucked against his hand and you squeezed your eyes shut, giving him the green light. He inhaled deeply and laid you back against the bed, hair hanging off the other end or getting caught between your chests.

"Dean," you whimpered when he pulled away from your lips, hips fidgeting in time with your fingers as he roughly pawed your covered sex driving you mad with each rotation of his hand. "A- _Ah!_ "

"Take it slow, baby girl," he murmured against the shell of your ear; you could feel him hard against your leg through his own pants. "Not a race. . ."

Your fingers clenched in the sheets, for various reasons, mostly trying to keep yourself from spazzing out too bad at the strong burst of arousal making your neck burn. Dean seemed to notice that and pulled your hair as gently as possible away from your neck, off to the side and when he placed a kiss on the slope of your shoulder, you relaxed.

"Dean," you whispered. "Please don't hurt me."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he grunted, teeth nipping at your jaw. "That aside. . ."

You giggled, which trailed into a long, shaky, airy moan; Dean groaned at the sound. Your eyes fluttered closed as you hunched your hips upwards into his hand, frustrated with the cloth blocking you from direct contact. You huffed after a moment, pushing his hand away and receiving a confused noise from the practically vibrating man above you.

You don't know where it came from, but you were pretty proud of it for some reason - you winked.

Tucking your thumbs into your waistband, wiggling your hips and cocking your knees, you winked at Dean Winchester. It felt good for some reason, you weren't really sure why considering it was just something so small in the oddest place. But it got a grin out of him and another heated kiss, only it was so quick you didn't have time to enjoy it. He helped you with the rest of the way, tossing your pants down towards the end of the bed as his free hand went for the hem of your t-shirt.

You arched your back when his mouth latched onto the space just below your belly button, tingles shooting down your pelvis and you had to bite your tongue. He pressed a hot kiss to the edge of your panties, brushing his lips back and forth lightly, but only for a moment.

"I bet you taste fan-fucking-tastic," he murmured, thumbs tugging down from the elastic waistband. "Just a taste. . ."

"Dean," you murmured through hooded lids, worry in your gut.

"Ssh, I got this."

You had no doubt.

Your eyes rolled towards the ceiling, lids fluttering as you felt his tongue drag slowly up your lips. Your fingers shook as you threaded then through his hair, stroking back as he found that small nub at the top of your slit. You arched your back and bucked up against his mouth, but he pinned your hips down with his hands; definitely weren't gonna be able to move those again.

" _Oh fuck,_ " you whispered, closing your eyes and tightening your hand in his hair. "Dean. . .!"

"Yeah, that's it baby, say my fucking name," he growled, teeth nipping your sensitive labia; you jerked at the feeling.

Your pussy spasmed when his tongue slithered -- that's what it felt like anyway -- into you, drawing his name from your lips yet again.

Fucking _magical._

You whimpered softly, tugging on his hair rather roughly because he didn't seem to listen when you did it gently. Dean actually glared over the edge of your breasts when you did that, bit obliged when you tugged again. He pushed himself up your body, jeans chaffing your skin as he adjusted himself.

"Please Dean," you whimpered. "I need you - now."

"Don't need ta tell me twice," he grunted, one of his hands moving between the two of you.

You watched over your heaving chest, excitement making your belly flip, then turn in slight intimidation at what sprung from his jeans.

Okay, it actually kind of made you giggle because how could that just. . .whatever.

"Hey, don't do that," he grinned as he kicked his jeans over the edge of the bed. "No laughing matter, young lady."

"Yes sir," holy shit, where did that demure tone come from?

Did that green of his eyes really darken? Oh Lord.

This time, his kiss was soft, gentle. It gave you more than butterflies, it almost made you giggle out of nervousness again. You ran your hands down his biceps, clinging to him as he pressed himself against your waiting sex. It sent another set of sparks up through your chest, your hips rolling against his.

"If you would be so kind as to fuck me now," you murmured against his lips.

"You and that mouth of yours," his eyes were still closed, but one quick thrust and he was buried into you perfectly.

You gasped and arched your back, letting out a deep, shaky breath as you clenched around him; he groaned. "F-Fuck," you dug your nails into his shoulders.

Dean chuckled against the collar of your shirt, one hand running up to cup your breast. Your hands stretched as far as they could down his back, arching your chest into his as he pulled his hips back, lips against your throat.

He started impossibly slow, making you groan inwardly but in all honesty, he was doing what was best. Dean was definitely more experienced, and judging by the sharp little pricks of pain that hit your cervix each time he bottomed out, slow was the best route to take. Still, you wanted him to fuck you harder even though the words wouldn't come out of your mouth. The only things that did come out were whimpers and moans, his lips against your neck, the collar of your shirt, whispering in your ear things you didn't really care about at the moment because holy fuck did this feel good.

Your walls rippled around his cock, his fingers tightening almost painfully around your hip but you didn't say anything.

"Uh. . .uh. . ." You tucked your cheek against his arm that was beside your head, accidently biting down on the tender skin of his forearm but you didn't care. "Fucking - _Dean!_ Fuck Dean I'm gonna cum - I-I. . . _fuck, fuck, fuck!_ "

You could feel your own slick on your thighs from his attempt to finger fuck you only moments ago, the arousal from that alone driving you over the edge before him. You bit hard on his skin and he didn't pull away - Hell, it didn't even seem to faze him. When you felt a wet warmth, your eyes flew open and you released his skin only to moan, red tint to your bottom lip.

"God damn," he grunted. "Cleared right through the fucking skin. . ."

Now why did that seem to make him fuck you harder? To be damned with gentle, he was now fucking you just how you wanted him to but there was the growing pain also being washed away by your next orgasm - two in a row, fucking A.

"Dean," you whimpered, hips meeting his in almost frantic thrusts. "Fuck again, again, Dean o-oh!"

"Feel so fucking good," he growled, your thighs wrapping around his hips and pulling him harder against you.

Your thighs trembled around his hips as you reached your second orgasm, biting your lip instead of his arm this time. His hips still moved against yours, thrusts hard and strong, reaching his own tipping point judging by the near desperate, soft noises coming from between his teeth. You clenched at his cock, making him throw his head back and it was a most glorious sight watching from hooded eyes.

His fingers strained around your hips and you finally noticed he wasn't moving anymore, he was staring at you behind primal, hooded eyes and yours widened a little.

Had you done something wrong?

Came too soon? Did he really want you to move all that much because to you, it felt like you were a fish fighting for air beneath him.

Well. . .

"Up an' at em," he growled, pulling his still very hard and very wet cock out of you; he held it with such confidence, how could you say no? "Bring that ass right up to me."

You did hesitate though, slightly afraid of his tone and also because your limbs were jelly and he should know that. But he helped, pressing you down into the mattress, making your eyes roll back into your head when he entered you smoothly from behind and started fucking your hips back against him.

You bit the edge of the mattress, hair blocking your view of the floor as you fought for that third orgasm he was bringing you to. You could hear the slap of skin over your own panting's and other embarrassing noises but holy shit did that feel better than you thought it would. Your over sensitive and almost over stimulated pussy could feel every inch of him, especially the way the rim of his dick raked against your walls.

"Fuck, your dick is heavenly," you moaned, gripping the edge of the bed with one hand while the other sloppily rubbed against your clit.

"God damn right," he even sounded smug while he panted. "So fucking close, so fucking. . ."

"I'm gonna cum again, Dean," you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut as your felt the tightness in your belly start to build.

"Yeah, cum again for me sweetheart. . .scream my name, I wanna hear it, real loud for me."

You whimpered, pressing hard against your clit, rubbing quick circles against it. " _Nh - nh - uh_ fuck Dean! _Deeean!_ Fuck, fuck -"

He groaned and held your hips still, rolling his own against yours as you came simultaneously; team work! You let out a shaky breath and dropped your hand, chest heaving and limbs weak, too weak to be held up by yourself, you were really relying on his hands right now.

You tensed for a moment as he pulled out of you, giving you a chill with the temporary loss of his body heat. Your legs slumped down against the mattress when he let you go, surprising you when he fell beside you and let his head hang off the edge of the bed. You looked over at him, lips parted and panting while he kept his eyes closed and breathed deeply through his nose.

You jumped a little when his hand found yours, smiling a little as he wound your fingers together even in the awkward positioning. "We gonna fuck like that every time you get cursed," you question, giving a breathy laugh at your own attempt at a joke.

He snorted and waited a beat to answer. "We fuck like that every other day now until we break the bed."

"Mm," you murmured. "Sounds like a good plan to me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being so patient with me and if you would like, just as with Girl_WithTheDirtyMind (God did I get that right? I mean, I mean I should know by now considering how hard we creep each other) I have a Twitter account: @LikePickelz. Come creep with me, ask questions, whatever. Its really fun over there ;)


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